


The Powerhouse of the Cell

by colazitron



Series: skam fic trope week 2017 [3]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, alternate first meeting, season 1 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-17 01:51:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11841489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: It's odd, being at Sana's when she and Isak aren't quite friends, but Isak may have found a reason to repeat the experience in Sana's brother's gorgeous friend.





	The Powerhouse of the Cell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tacitula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tacitula/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with the characters depicted herein or their creators. I made all of this up in my head and am sharing it purely for entertainment purposes.

To say that Isak and Sana are friends seems like kind of an exaggeration. But to say they're not friends, that neither of them cares about the other beyond the context of their biology grade, feels equally wrong. Isak actually likes people, likes being around people. It's just that most people are thoroughly disappointing and sort of ruin that for him. Sana is... short to the point of being abrasive, a know-it-all who's frequently wrong, but she's also kind when you least expect it, and she's obviously loyal to her friends. Actually, she reminds Isak a bit of Hermione Granger, and if reading Harry Potter has taught him anything, it's that you're always better off with a Hermione around.

So, Isak and Sana may not quite be friends who braid each other's hair and talk about boys, but they're not exactly only biology buddies either. The fact that Sana let Isak get away with saving her number under 'Sanasol' in his phone is proof enough of that.

But still. They hang out and go over their biology lessons over lunch breaks sometimes, and have even had one or two study dates in the library. If anyone were to badmouth Sana in front of him, Isak would not hesitate in defending her, and he knows she'd do the same. He's not sure if he's earned her steadfast loyalty yet, but he's also not sure how anyone even goes about doing that. He has her approval, at least. After all, her approval of his advice to Eva to just tell Jonas about kissing Christoffer Schistad is literally why Sana started talking to him in the first place. Isak is glad someone appreciates that advice, given that he had to take at least ten very deep breaths and remind himself that, crush on Jonas or not, Eva is his friend too, and Jonas would certainly not like him any better if he actually went through with any of the sneaky plans to let this blow up in Eva's face. The fact that Eva didn't follow his advice is something Sana and he both disapprove of, and he supposes even if they're on opposing ends of that outcome, it's enough to unite them at least a little.

Still, for Sana to sit down next to him when he's having lunch with Jonas is rather unusual.

“Isak,” she says, giving Jonas the cold shoulder. Isak tries not to be amused. It's a mess of a situation, this whole thing with Eva and Jonas, and Isak's not sure if they're actually broken up for good or not. Last Jonas said they were trying to work through their issues, but from where Isak's sitting, with Jonas right here and Eva all the way on the other side of the cafeteria, it doesn't look so good.

“Sana,” he says. “What can I do for you?”

“I can't stay late after school today to go over the biology thing,” she says.

Isak frowns a little in reply, but then shrugs his shoulders. “That's alright. Thanks for telling me.”

Sana sighs like he's being purposely obtuse.

“You should come over to mine tomorrow. We'll work on it then.”

“Um,” he says.

They're not really the hang-out-at-each-other's-places kind of friends.

“I finish at two, I'll wait for you if you have a later class.”

“No, I'm done at two as well,” he says.

Sana gives a curt decisive nod.

“Meet me out front by the stairs then,” she says and swings her backpack back onto her shoulder as she gets up.

“Um,” he repeats. He doesn't think he agreed, technically. He also doesn't think he's got much of a choice in the matter.

“See you tomorrow, Isak,” she says, and then, shortly before turning around, voice frosty as all hell, “Jonas.”

Isak stares after her as she leaves, the look on Jonas' face when he turns back to him startling half a laugh out of him before he presses his mouth shut against it.

Jonas rolls his eyes at him, but his shoulders slump back down from their tense line.

“You'd think I'm the one who cheated,” Jonas grumbles.

Isak bites his lip against any kind of comment and shrugs instead. Jonas rolls his eyes again and ducks his head to frown down at his cheese toast for a moment.

“Didn't know you were close to Sana though,” he says then.

“I'm not, I don't think,” Isak says. “We're just biology partners. She's good. Smart.”

“High praises,” Jonas says with a grin.

“You're one to talk, Mister 'I think I failed the essay oh no wait I got a six again',” Isak says, kicking Jonas' shin under the table lightly.

“I really did think I'd failed it!” Jonas protests.

“You think that every time! And you never do! Learn some self-evaluation!”

“You learn to chill,” Jonas teases.

Isak snorts a laugh and reaches for his own toast. “I will not. Your excessive unnecessary worrying is an affront to everyone who knows they've actually failed.”

“Well, not to you then,” Jonas points out with a raised eyebrow.

Isak shrugs but nods. It's true, after all.

 

Going over to Sana's is weird, to say the least. Leaving school with her, walking to the tram together, sitting opposite each other – it all makes Isak feel like he's being evaluated and failing, somehow.

“You don't have to be quite so nervous, I don't bite,” Sana says with a glare and an eye roll.

“Sorry, it's just been a while since a pretty girl invited me over,” Isak tries to joke.

“No,” is all Sana says in response.

Isak lifts up his palms in a show of surrender and slumps further in his seat.

“So are we going to just not say anything to each other at all that isn't about biology?” he asks.

“Do you have anything else to say?” Sana asks back. Isak imagines it's only half condescending and half actually curious.

“I don't know,” he says with a shrug. “Do you know what you want to do after school? Who is Sana Bakkoush?”

“That's not who I am,” Sana says, crossing her arms. “That's what I want to do. And I'm going to be a surgeon.”

Isak nods slowly, trying to imagine Sana in scrubs.

“All the nurses will hate you,” he says with a grin.

Sana fakes a bright smile. “I can be perfectly pleasant when it's warranted.”

“I guess I don't warrant it then.”

“You don't,” she says, but when he laughs at it, she smiles a little.

The next lull in their conversation feels more natural, and this time it's Sana who breaks it.

“What about you? Who is Isak Valtersen?” she asks, imitating him a little.

“Who am I or what do I want to do after school?” he asks back, grinning a little.

“Either one,” she says.

Isak shrugs.

“I have no idea.”

“Which one?”

“Either.”

Sana rolls her eyes.

“Cute,” she says.

Isak grins brightly, showing off the dimples in his cheeks.

“That I definitely am,” he pretends to agree. She doesn't dispute it, so he's counting it as a win. A win of what exactly he's not sure, but spending time with Sana is becoming more and more fun by the minute.

When they have to get off the tram she gets up without a word, but she looks back over her shoulder to make sure he's following. The Bakkoush's flat is spacious and warm, and the living room visible from the door has a bookshelf that runs along the entire long wall of it, floor to ceiling dark wood with books upon books upon books. Isak stares for a moment until Sana elbows him in the side.

“Are you hungry?” she asks.

“Are you offering me food?” he asks back. He feels a bit bad for it, but he sort of wasn't expecting that, even though he supposes it is roughly lunch time. He has no idea if she's eaten anything at school today.

“I'm a good host,” she insists and leads him into what turns out to be the kitchen.

Everything in the flat is clean and orderly. The counter tops wiped clean, the wood light, the white of the kitchen inviting instead of clinical. Jonas' place never makes him feel odd because he's been there so much it's like a second home to him, but the difference between this and the growing chaos back at home sours his gut. He hasn't even really noticed that it's not just the fighting that's escalating. It's… shit, it's everything, isn't it?

“Isak?” Sana asks, frown on her face as she peers up at him.

“Sorry,” he says. “Spaced out.”

“Hm,” she says, but doesn't push. “So. Food?”

“Er. Maybe?”

She sighs like he's being difficult.

“Look, I'm gonna make myself a sandwich or something. Do you want one too,” she asks, deadpan.

“Yeah. Please. I can make it myself though,” he says.

“Well, obviously. I'm not making it for you,” she says, but grins as she ducks her head, so Isak lets his own face relax into a grin as well.

She pulls out all sorts of things from the fridge – cheese and a creamy spread, some veggies – and Isak basically copies whatever she does in the assembling of his own sandwich. He's not particular, and also not sure what everything is, and he'd feel like an idiot asking her about her diet. Do Muslims have restrictions? That's a thing, right? He should know this.

“We can study here,” she announces when she sets her plate down on the kitchen table.

“Yeah, alright,” he says, shuffling around the table to set his plate down opposite her.

She fills them each a glass of water, helps him clear away the sandwich toppings, and then falls down into her chair with less grace than he's ever seen her do. They eat in silence, but after Sana has cleared away their plates, she digs her biology stuff out of her backpack and slams the book down on the table with a none too quiet bang.

“Alright. Please tell me you got what we did in class today,” she says.

Isak nods. He's not quite sure if she's asking because she doesn't want to have to catch him up or she's asking him to catch her up, but either way, he's good.

“Good,” she says. “Then let's get started.”

Once they fall into the familiar rhythm of bickering about answers, each of them with their notes and textbook spread out before them, Sana's laptop angled so they can both reach it to read and look up whatever they need on google to prove that, no, you're totally wrong, and I'm definitely right, Isak feels the last bits of tension drain out of his shoulders. He does like doing this with Sana. He likes academic debates, no matter how nerdy that is, and Jonas, though smart, isn't as into sciences as Isak is. He's not as into debating either. He likes asking questions, but he's not always so interested in finding out the answers. Isak's first move is to ask google. Jonas' first move is to think about it and talk a lot of nonsense to see what sticks. Sana is on Isak's wavelength about this at least, and Isak likes to flatter himself that she enjoys their back and forth as much as he does, even when all they do is call each other slightly more polite versions of “idiot”.

“You're in your natural habitat, I see,” a boy's voice interrupts Sana in a heated line of an argument.

It startles Isak out of listening, head jerking up to look at the intruder, but Sana only rolls her eyes and leans back in her chair lazily.

“Do you need something, Elias?” she asks.

The boy – Elias – wears his hair shorn short and has a pleasant smile when he looks down at Sana. He also has the same nose and something about the eyes she does. A brother, Isak guesses. He didn't even know Sana had siblings before just now.

But that's not why Isak basically freezes in his seat when he looks up.

“Yeah, Elias, leave your sister to her study date,” the second boy says.

He's tall; taller than Elias, taller than Isak. His blond hair is swept up out of his face but pieces of it are falling down like he moves a lot,or maybe runs his hands through it habitually. (Not that Isak’s picturing that,or picturing doing it for him.) His eyes are bright blue, and crinkled into his smile. He's-- fuck. Oh, fucking hell, he's gorgeous.

Isak swallows heavily, throat going dry and his jaw clenched with the sudden effort it takes to _act naturally_.

“Hi, Sana,” Gorgeous says, smiling down at Sana, and then he looks over at Isak, smile looking even more pleasant to Isak when it's directed at him.

Sana sighs.

“Isak, Elias, my brother, and Even, one of his goofy friends. Elias, Even, Isak. My biology partner,” she says.

“That's what I am to you? You wound me,” Isak quips before he can help himself.

Gorgeous – Even – grins, and Elias's lip twitches like he wants to grin, but also doesn't trust the boy seemingly flirting with his sister.

Sana stares at him blankly. Isak stares back.

“Right. Well, we're just getting drinks. Have fun with… whatever that is,” Elias says. “Looks messy.”

“That's because Isak is wrong,” Sana says, and Isak snaps his head back from where he'd helplessly followed the slope of Even's back as he reached up to grab a couple water glasses from the overhead compartment.

“I am _not_!”

 

**The End**


End file.
